


New Dad

by HarveyDangerfield, LondonQueen001



Series: Pressed Flowers [4]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Single Parents, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 07:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarveyDangerfield/pseuds/HarveyDangerfield, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonQueen001/pseuds/LondonQueen001
Summary: Ernest thinks it's a travesty, this whole Hugo and Damien thing, and decides to take matters into his own hands to preserve his family.





	New Dad

**Author's Note:**

> Almost this entire chapter is told from Ernest's perspective so, teen angst ahoy!

“Open the fucking door Lucien!” Ernest shouts, pounding his fist against Lucien’s bedroom door. He’s not so much knocking as he is punching the wood like it’s personally offended him. “We need to talk, now! This is serious!”

  
  
The last few weeks have been a nightmare for him. Damien was constantly over, or Hugo was over at Damien’s, always making heart eyes at eachother, it’s disgusting. After a bad day at work he just wanted some pizza rolls and youtube, but he set one foot on the porch and saw a single lace doily set out on the table on their porch, and lost his mind. Damien’s gonna take over their fucking house, how long before he starts forcing him and Hugo to wear all black?

  
  
He turned straight around and went to Lucien’s instead. The door was unlocked but Damien didn’t appear to be home which meant he was probably out with Hugo, a thought that makes Ernest gag a little. He’s been in a foul mood ever since the first time he saw them embracing in the living room, he might as well try talking it out with Lucien and coming up with a way to stop this because there’s no way Lucien is okay with their dads dating either. They need to fix this now before it’s too late.

  
  
“Dude, what’s with all the hostility,” comes Lucien’s voice from the other side of the door. He opens it a crack. There’s a chain across the inside of his door, as usual, and he has one earbud in his ear. “You didn’t even text me, what’s up?”

  
  
He closes the door to open the chain, and lets the door to his room swing open for Ernest. The posters wallpapering his walls are familiar, the grungey bed piled with too many blankets and pillows, the desk with his computer and his stereo to the side, the massive beanbag chairs in front of his tv and console... the only thing different is a stack of books on the corner of his desk that Ernest knows for a fact are from his house. Hugo must have given them to him.

  
  
"Your dad is at my house. Again. I had to get out of there before they started fucking." Ernest says, pushing his way inside. He throws himself onto Lucien's bed and glares up at the ceiling. "I can't take this anymore Lucien. We need to do something about this." He lifts his head to look at Lucien but doesn't sit up. "You realize they've been together three nights this week. And it's only Thursday. They'll probably spend all weekend at my house while I'm at Dad's place."

  
  
Lucien drops into one of his beanbag chairs across from Ernest. “Yeah?” he turns off his music and winds his headphones around his ipod, jamming it back into his pocket. He goes quiet, waiting for Ernest to say more, and realizes that Ernest is looking at him, waiting to hear from him. “Uh... sorry dude but I’ve got to ask the obvious question. Why?”

  
  
"What do you mean _why?"_ Ernest asks. He sits up to stare at Lucien in horror. "They're dating Lucien. _Dating_. And it's serious. Hugo showed him his dumbass wrestling room. He never lets anyone see that room. And they're fucking, which is gross. Dads aren't supposed to date or fuck, especially not our dads."

  
  
Lucien laughs, he can’t help it. His smirk drops when he sees that Ernest isn’t laughing either. He’s not kidding around. “You’re not serious, right? They’re people, Ern. People fuck. Even like, old people fuck around. You suddenly worried about dad cooties or what?”

  
  
Ernest glares at him. "No but it's gross. And they're our dads. isn't it weird to you that our dads are fucking? I mean, they could be fucking over there while we're making out over here, it's fucking weird! And Hugo doesn't date. He just doesn't."

  
  
He stands up and starts pacing back and forth. "I just don't think you're getting it. You don't understand how serious this is, they aren't just fooling around anymore Lucien. This isn't stupid bouquet's and love poems and all that shit. This is real."

  
  
“Yeah, uh...” Lucien shakes his head. “No, I still don’t get it. What’s the big deal? They’re dating... so what? You want your dad to be lonely and miserable? Sure it’s weird seeing my teacher at my house sometimes, but we’re neighbors. They’ve known eachother for years. I don’t get what the problem is. You just keep repeating they’re dating, but last I checked that’s not a bad thing?”

  
  
"Yes it is! You don't get it." he drops back onto the bed again. "Hugo's supposed to be with my dad, not your weirdo dad. No offense. It's not a problem with your dad it's just weird and not right and I don't want to be making out with my step brother, that's messed up, don't you think? And you don't want your dad fucking Hugo, not really. He's a pain in the ass, having to deal with him at school is bad enough, now you'll have to deal with him at dinner and breakfast and nagging you about homework all the time."

  
  
Lucien just laughs again. “We’re not step brothers. They’re not married, they’ve only been dating for like, four months. Didn’t your dads break up like five years ago? You still think they’re gonna get back together?”

  
  
Ernest grumbles from the bed. "It could happen. And they aren't married yet but it's going that way. Hugo wouldn't have told him about his stupid wrestling fetish if he wasn't serious about this. He's head over heels for your dad."

  
  
“I dunno man, I’m still not following,” Lucien shrugs his shoulders. “Aren’t we supposed to be like, happy for our parents when they’re happy? I dunno what your situation is, but my dad’s been alone... forever. Like, as far back as I can remember. He was never married or anything, it was always just him and me. He didn’t even date around ever, he never brought anybody home, he’s just always been alone. I’m not about to buy the wedding flowers or some shit, but it’s nice to have the house to myself once in a while.”

  
  
"That's fine for him but why does it have to be with my dad?" He says, tone on the edge of accusing. "If you want your dad dating that's fine. He deserves it and all that. But my dads were together for years. They split up over something stupid, it can still be fixed. Besides, you don't want your dad to be a rebound right?"

  
  
“ _Rebound?_ It’s been years,” Lucien frowns. He’s not enjoying the direction this conversation is going in. “Dude, just drop it. Your dads are over. I haven’t even seen him visit the neighborhood in like two years. Our dads are dating, it’s weird, but we can’t do anything about it. Let’s just make out and stop talking about this.”

  
  
Ernest shakes his head. "I don't want to make out and I don't want them to be dating. You don't know the first thing about my dads alright so just, shut up. Hugo's just being stubborn, Dad would take him back if he'd stop being an idiot."

  
  
“Do you even know why they broke up?” Lucien crosses his arms over his chest. “Parents who break up never get back together, that’s like a known fact of life.”

  
  
"Hugo made a mistake." Ernest insists. "He'll realize he's wrong eventually and they'll make up. Dad was the best thing to ever happen to him. What would you know about it anyway, you've only ever had one parent, you're no expert."

  
  
“Hey,” Lucien’s expression sours. “That’s not fair, man. Just because you’re being a bitter little bitch about your dad being fucking happy for once doesn’t mean you can give me shit. It’s weird, but since they started dating my dad’s like a fucking disney princess, floating around the house and humming all the time and I don’t think I’ve seen him stop smiling once since they got together. It’s _good_. Get over this weird shit, do you wanna make out or not?”

  
  
"NO." Ernest says, standing up and storming over to the door. "I thought you would help me with this but I guess I've got to handle it myself. Damien's happy now but he and Hugo aren't right for each other, they'll figure that out soon enough. Then we can make out."

  
  
“Whatever dude,” he unwinds his headphones from his ipod. “We can make out after _you_ stop being a freak and obsessing over who your dad is dating. What’s next, you wanna watch your dads fuck?”

  
  
Ernest gags a little. "That's disgusting, what the fuck is wrong with you? I'm pretty sure I made it clear I don't want them fucking at all. Just forget it alright. I'll take care of this alone."

  
  
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Lucien doesn’t look up, already putting his headphones in his ears, and then muses loudly, “I bet my dad would love putting together the flowers for their wedding...”

  
  
Ernest flips him off as he leaves, making sure to slam the door as hard as he possibly can behind him. He storms down the stairs, but right as he heads for the front door, it opens and Damien steps inside, humming. He makes a surprised sound when he sees the boy.

  
  
“Oh, Ernest! What a delightful surprise, to find you in my foyer. Did you come over to visit Lucien? Do you two have snacks? I can whip something up if you just give me a couple moments.”

  
  
"No, thanks. I'm not hungry." Ernest says, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. He looks Damien up and down once before glaring up at him. "What are you doing here anyway? Hugo kick you out or did you get sick of him finally?"

  
  
Damien only gives a little laugh, unwinding his cloak from around his shoulders. “Such a kidder, just like your father. I finally let him get to work on the papers he needed to grade this evening.” he hangs his cloak on the hook and turns a warm smile to Ernest. “Would you like to join us for supper later?”

  
  
Ernest shakes his head. "No Hugo will probably want me home. If he even _notices_ I'm gone." He should leave, but he doesn't, continuing to glare at Damien's sunny smile. "And I'm not a kidder. Hugo does that, he'll just kick guys out all of a sudden. He sucks at relationships, that's why he hasn't seen anyone seriously since he and dad broke up. He's too sensitive, he can't handle it. Anything you say could set him off."

  
  
“You’re so right,” Damien doesn’t seem to be listening completely, he’s making some notes on the chalkboard beside the front door. “He’s the most sensitive man I’ve ever met, so charming and endearing and thoughtful. Just like you! The two of you are so much alike.”

  
  
"That's not what I mean! And I'm _not_ sensitive!" Ernest snaps. "He runs away from relationships as soon as they get difficult. He might be having fun now but just wait until you have a fight. And you know his stupid wrestling thing? That's not going away. You can't make him stop that, he's totally obsessed."

  
  
“He is, isn’t it charming?” Damien smiles, turning back to Ernest when he’s finished with the chalkboard. “Your father’s hobby is not one I would have expected, but I find myself entranced by the subject. Surely you must know all about it, you’ve grown up surrounded by it. He said you two haven’t been to a match together in a very long time, would you like me to purchase a ticket for you the next time we plan to attend a wrestle-game?”

  
  
Anger mounting, it takes all of Ernest's self control not to start banging his head against the nearest wall. "No! Wrestling is stupid! A bunch of grown guys in unitards and Halloween masks pretending to beat the shit out of each other is dumb. And it's called a match not a wrestle-game." This is starting to seem hopeless, what's it going to take to make Damien realize this is a bad relationship?

  
  
"I don't get what you see in him. He's so annoying and stuck up. And if you keep dating him you have to keep putting up with me and I'm not going to start being nice to you just because you're boning my dad." he snaps. "He's not into any of your weird stuff. He doesn't even like flowers and he's allergic to bee stings you know. Your garden could kill him."

  
  
“Oh, is that what you’re worried about?” Damien’s hand flattens against his chest. “You don’t have to fear losing your father to an allergic reaction, I’ve started keeping epipens in my refrigerator, and I take more care than usual to keep wasps away from my garden. The honeybees never sting, I’ve lived here for thirteen years and never once have I been stung by a bee, so I don’t anticipate your father is in any danger. But just in case, I have three epipens on hand.”

  
  
"Fucking hell." Ernest groans. This is hopeless. He isn't even being subtle anymore, how is Damien not getting what he's saying? "I'm trying to tell you, you two aren't going to last alright? And if you make him cry I'm going to cut the heads off all your flowers. Think about that, I'm going home."

  
  
“Have a good evening, Ernest!” he hears Damien call out to him from the front door, and it takes all his willpower not to flip him off over his shoulder. He doesn't hear Damien's weary sigh, or see him watching his retreat through the window with a sad shake of his head.

 

Nevermind what does Damien see in Hugo, what the fuck does _Hugo_ see in _Damien?_ Hugo’s all about being smart or whatever, and clearly Damien’s a fucking airhead, he couldn’t possibly have been more obvious! He can’t scare Damien away because he’s too fucking stupid, apparently. And he can’t rely on Lucien to help him break them up. So he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands. He’ll have to remind Hugo why he married his dad in the first place.

  
  
First order of business is research. In this case that means binge watching romantic comedies which is Ernest's usual go to activity when he and Lucien can't hang out or are fighting anyway. Now at least it has a purpose. He knows the scenarios in the movies are mostly unrealistic but there has to be some kernel of truth in there about grand romantic gestures or accidental run ins fixing everything that will help him.

  
  
Six movies and two pizza roll breaks in he's beginning to form an idea. If Hugo and his dad will just get together, just be in the same room together, without any ammunition for arguments, maybe in a romantic setting the rest should be easy. All he has to do is get them talk. Which means getting them together on neutral territory.

  
  
That's going to be the hard part.

  
  
He can’t just ask them to meet up, because Hugo is a stubborn asshole and his dad is... probably just nervous. And he can’t just ask Hugo to accompany him to a romantic location. He’ll need to make it seem like he’s setting up a date, but he can’t do that without talking to him.

  
  
Unless he can. As he’s leaning back in his chair, he watches Hugo go out to the mailbox and fetch the mail, one of which he opens right away, grinning like an idiot. Probably one of Damien’s stupid letters- and then it hits him. He could just forge a letter from Damien. Make it seem like Damien asked him out somewhere, and then it’s two birds with one stone! It’ll seem like Damien stood him up, and then Victor just happens to be there! They’ll be back together by sundown.

  
  
He knows where Hugo keeps all Damien’s letters, so while he’s out by the mailbox reading Damien’s newest postage, he slips into his wrestling room and opens the box of letters on the desk, snatching up the first one. All he has to do is copy his handwriting, and invite Hugo to the most romantic restaurant, probably in Salem.

  
  
Turns out that's easier said than done. In his room Ernest opens the letter and is greeted by Damien's fancy flowing penmanship, the sort of writing you only see in movies where people write with pens they have to dip in ink. Damien probably has a pen and ink like that, Ernest think to himself. Because he's fucking weird.

  
  
It's okay though, it'll just take practice. He can do it. It's black ink so a regular pen should do fine to look like it, it's not like Hugo is going to check the ink to make sure it's the same kind. And luckily Damien's paper was only a little fancier than regular printer paper. A normal sheet should pass fine.

  
  
Getting his pen and paper Ernest sets to work practicing Damien's handwriting, trying to make his letters as neat and fancy as the ones in the letter. Unfortunately, it’s a fucking disaster. Damien’s stupid handwriting is impossible to replicate, he has so many loops and curls and stupid serifs that it must take him a year to write one stupid letter.

  
  
He really tries though, a million attempts later, opening with the date at the top and the same intro as all the others that makes him roll his eyes, _To my dearest._

  
  
He only gets a couple lines of shaky, lopsided loops down when he realizes this is hopeless. Not only is it completely unconvincing, he doesn’t even have an envelope, and Damien always seals his letters with a goddamn wax seal in that weird shimmery purple wax. There’s no hope for him to make this look like the real deal, and he only has one shot at this. If he messes up the first time, Hugo will be way too suspicious for a second attempt.

  
  
"Why does he have to send stupid letters anyway? Why can't he be like a normal person?" He mutters to himself, crumpling up his last attempt and throwing it vaguely in the direction of his bedroom garbage can.

  
  
Dropping his head onto the desk he tries to think of something else, some other way to get a message to Hugo and make it look like it's from Damien. There's DadBook but he doesn't know Damien's log in. It's probably something stupid like 'Flowers' but he doesn't want to risk getting it wrong too many times and getting locked out of the account. Damien will definitely know something is up then.

  
  
DadBook is out. But it does give him an idea. Damien and Hugo text. Not a lot but sometimes when they want to talk to each other right away. With texting there will be no way of knowing it's him. No stupid handwriting to copy. He just needs to get Damien's phone.

  
  
Which won’t be... the super easiest thing he’s ever done, but hey, he’s up for a challenge. Not tonight, for tonight he goes back to watching movies. For... more research.

  
  
The next day at school, Lucien won’t even look at him, and leaves the classrooms really fast when the bells ring. He must still be angry at Ernest for some stupid reason. Whatever, he’ll get over it. Probably. He sort of stalks him a little bit to figure out what he’s up to after school, and hears him make plans to meet up with a couple other kids right after school by the bay. Perfect.

  
  
When he shows up at Damien’s house after school, Damien politely tells him that Lucien isn’t home, but that he should feel free to go wait up in his room, and takes his big stupid sunhat and big stupid gardening basket out into the back yard. And he leaves his cell phone right in plain sight on the kitchen counter.

  
  
It's almost too easy but Ernest isn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He slips the phone into his pocket and waits fifteen minutes before shouting out the backdoor that he doesn't want to wait and Damien should just tell Lucien to text him when he gets home. He practically sprints out the door and back to his house, ignoring Hugo's greeting to bound up the stairs two at a time, reaching his room in record time and locking the door behind him.

  
  
It takes ten minutes to unlock the damn thing, turns out the password is Lucien's birthday, but soon enough he has it cracked. It's tempting to look through his pictures and send a couple prank texts, but tonight Ernest is a man on a mission. He can always steal it again later. And the thought that there might be nudes, or worse, _Hugo's nudes_ saved in the pictures keeps him on task.

  
  
He realizes as he begins to put together a text that he has no idea how to get Victor to come to the restaurant in Salem that he picked out. He has no incentive to lure him there, but... he’ll just figure something out. He reads through a few of their other messages to get a feeling for how Damien talks to him, and then sends him a quick text (after several failed attempts) that makes his eyes roll so hard they almost fall out.

  
  
_~~Hey Hugo, do you want-~~ _   
  
_~~My dearest most dear love, do you wanna-~~ _   
  
_~~Hello my darling, tonight I wanna get dinner-~~ _   
  
_My love, would you perchance like to join me for a date this eve? Meet me at 7 o’clock at the Boardwalk Diner in Salem. I look forward to seeing you there._

  
  
The place he picked was perfect. It has views of the bay with the big clipper ships on display, fairy lights strung all around and live music. It’s romantic as _shit_. It's just about four o'clock when he sends the text. It takes Hugo all of two minutes to respond that of course, he'd love to go out for dinner, giving Ernest plenty of time to call and make a reservation in Damien's name and catch a bus into the city.

  
  
"Going out?" Hugo asks when Ernest comes back downstairs, heading for the door.

  
  
Ernest nods, hand on the doorknob. "Yeah. Meeting Lucien. Probably just gonna write graffiti the playground in the park."

  
  
"I'll give you twenty dollars to go to a movie instead and not commit any kind of property damage," Hugo offers with a barely restrained sigh.

  
  
Of course he takes the money. It'll buy him a sandwich or something while he waits and watches. He promises to be back by midnight before taking off to get down to the bay and find the perfect place to watch the Diner without being spotted.

  
  
The most unrealistic part of the movies, he’s realizing, is how the people spying on other people on dates get inside the venue. There’s no way he’d be able to sneak into a restaurant, so he’ll have to peek in from outside and try not to get caught. He has a little bit of time to figure out how to lure his dad there, and eventually settles on something slightly dramatic, that might get him in trouble eventually, but it’s not like he’s never been in trouble before.

  
  
With an hour to spare, he shoots a text to his dad, _Hey dad I’m at this place and I think I might be in trouble. Can you come pick me up?_ along with the address. He’ll think it’s weird when he comes to the place and finds a restaurant, but something about crossing bridges, whatever. All he has to do is get Victor inside the restaurant. That's it. From there things should take care of themselves.

  
  
Hugo arrives five minutes before 7 and is shown his seat. Ernest watches from the window while Hugo looks around and starts looking over the menu, completely unconcerned that Damien hasn't arrived yet. He starts checking his watch after ten minutes, looking up at the door more and more often. He sends a text asking if Damien is stuck in traffic. Ernest ignores the buzz from Damien's phone in his pocket. He'll delete the messages later.

  
  
Twenty minutes, no reply from Victor. Hugo sends another text, this one more worried than the first one. 'Is everything alright?'. Ernest ignores this one too. It's better this way. Hugo will get frustrated with Damien and be more receptive when Victor shows up.

  
  
Victor who still hasn't texted back. Ernest checks his phone but no, no reply. Maybe he got right in the car and started driving, without answering? That's a dad thing to do. He should be here soon. It’s been almost half an hour with no luck. He’s starting to panic, and Hugo looks pretty worried too. How does this always work out so well in the movies? He pulls his phone out again and texts his dad, _Are you on your way?_

  
  
Thankfully the phone buzzes just a couple minutes later, and he excitedly yanks it from his pocket, only for his spirits to drop immediately. _I thought you would have texted Hugo. He’s closer to you._

  
  
He types three replies, each more angry and hurt than the last before deleting them and sending a simple _Whatever._

  
  
It's a loss. His dad isn't coming, doesn't care that something might be wrong, even enough to send a text and check up on him. All he's managed to do is make Hugo sad. "Fuck this." he mutters, turning away from the diner to go sit by the water. Hugo will leave soon but he's got another few hours to wait until he can go back from the 'movies' if he wants it to be convincing. He's never home by curfew.

  
  
Inside the diner Hugo sends Damien one more text saying he's going to head home and they'll talk tomorrow. He pays for the iced tea he had while he waited and leaves the waiter a nice tip in apology for keeping his table so long. Feeling a little dejected he steps out into the cool night air, taking in the salty breeze coming off the bay. It would have been a nice date. Dinner and a walk by the water. Something must have happened.

  
  
He looks over towards the bay and spots a familiar looking orange hoodie and mop of brown hair and his brow furrows in confusion. Surely that can’t be Ernest. He tries to walk casually, in the event that it’s a coincidence he doesn’t want to come up too quickly to a stranger, his height alone of 6’8 is plenty to intimidate people when he moves meekly, let alone charging with purpose.

  
  
But as he draws closer, he sees the umistakable violet glitter case of Damien’s phone. Ernest is in the process of deleting the text messages they’d sent back and forth, unaware of his father coming up behind him. Hugo sighs and approaches the bench, stopping just behind Ernest. "Mind if I sit here?" He asks, making Ernest jump. He sees his son stiffen, knowing he's been caught and expecting a scolding or punishment. "I'm not angry, but I think we need to talk."

  
  
“I was just leaving,” Ernest jams the phone into his pocket as fast as possible, hoping to god that Hugo didn’t see it. He gets up in a big hurry, hoping to make a quick getaway. If he can just put some distance between them, he’ll be able to come up with a story for why he was all the way in Salem instead of at the movies like he said he was going to be.

  
  
Hugo catches his arm and gently pulls Ernest back down onto the bench. "No, I think we need to talk. You lied to me. And you stole from Damien. You're going to have to apologize for that later, but right now I want us to sit and talk. Really talk. What are you doing here Ernest?"

  
  
Ernest begins to sweat. Hugo has never really just grabbed him before. It’s kind of easy to forget how big Hugo is when he’s always keeping no less than five feet of distance between them. He swallows hard, looking nervous.

  
  
“The stupid bus wouldn’t let me off at the right stop,” he tries. It’s a flimsy lie, but it’s worth a shot. “I got on the stupid express instead of the regular bus so this was the only place I could get off. Gotta wait for another bus home. Let _go_ of me.”

  
  
"Stop lying Ernest." Hugo snaps, a little harsher than he means to. His patience is at it's end. "You're going to sit down and talk to me. And you're going to tell me the truth for once, understand? Why are you here? Why have you been texting me pretending to be Damien?"

  
  
Ernest is looking more and more nervous by the second. “I haven’t! That’s crazy! _You’re_ crazy!” he says, trying to pull his arm away. It’s not as if he thinks Hugo is going to hurt him. He’s never actually thought that. Hugo’s always been pretty gentle physically, almost meek, to the point where Ernest might even be able to overpower him if he wanted to or tried. But that doesn’t mean he can’t pretend. “You’re _hurting_ me, let _go_.”

  
  
Instantly Hugo let's go, looking as if he'd just been smacked in the face. "I'm sorry, Ernest, are you alright?" He goes from mad to concerned in a second, checking his son's arm for bruises but being careful not to touch him again. He hadn't realized he was holding him so tight. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I want us to be able to talk, that's all."

  
  
Ernest had kind of been hoping that Hugo would get mad at him so he could turn it into a scene and be justified in storming away, but this... just kind of takes the wind out of his sails. Unbidden, he feels hot tears suddenly well up in his eyes and with them, anger.

  
  
“I just don’t know why you won’t get back together with dad!” he says it loud enough that the few people nearby glance over. The tears spill over. “You still love him, I know you do, you keep his pictures up around the house and I see you looking at them sometimes! You wore that stupid shirt he got you when you chaperoned prom, and-- and I don’t _want_ a new dad!”

  
  
Whatever Hugo had been expecting it wasn't that. He stares at Ernest for a moment with an expression somewhere between horror and confusion as it sinks in. Then he sighs, his shoulders slumping a little as his expression turns sad. "Oh Ernest. I keep those pictures up for _you_ , because he's your father and I didn't want you to think I was trying to keep him out of your life." He admits. "I look at them sometimes, the pictures of all of us together, because I miss when we were a family. When you were happy and we were still close. That's what I miss, not Victor."

  
  
He turns to Ernest and gestures for him to sit down next to him on the bench. "Is that what this was about? You wanted me to think Damien stood me up so I would go back to your dad? You know Damien isn't trying to replace him right? He knows he isn't your father, and he's never going to be. No one is trying to make him into your new dad."

  
  
Ernest is reluctant, but he does sit on the bench, at the very end, as far away from Hugo as possible. He feels like an idiot and a big stupid baby, and he feels very isolated from his only good friend right now, over this whole stupid thing that didn’t even work.

  
  
“I was trying to get dad to come here,” he admits, pulling out Damien’s phone and holding it out to Hugo without looking at him. “I told him I was in trouble to try and get him here and he just... told me to call you.”

  
  
Hugo takes the phone and tucks it into his pocket. "That sounds like Victor." He says, shaking his head. "He loves you but he's not great at the harder parts of parenting. Remember when you were little and I always had to come pick you up from school when you were sick? He isn't the best in a crisis." He turns to look at Ernest but doesn't move any closer, giving the boy his space. "Your dad and I aren't going to get back together Ernest. I'm sorry. Even if he had shown up tonight it probably would have just ended in an argument. He doesn't make me happy anymore. Damien does."

  
  
Ernest looks away, scowling. He doesn’t understand why Hugo won’t even try. Why he just gave up. But it’s pointless anyway, his dad wouldn’t even come tonight. “Whatever,” he mumbles. “Can I still take the bus home?”

  
  
"If you really want to, yes." Hugo says. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd come home with me. We can stop and get dinner on the way. Maybe at that pizza place you like so much? We still have a lot to talk about but it can wait."

  
  
Pizza is tempting, but the pressing need to retreat after letting Hugo see him cry is much stronger. “I’ll just see you at home,” he jumps up off the bench, hurrying towards the bus stop down the road. He has to go lock himself in his room for like a week at least to make up for this. It would have been better if he was in trouble, he could just be grounded or whatever and take his licks but this... gentle understanding is really rubbing him the wrong way.

  
  
Or maybe it’s the right way, and everything else has been the wrong way and he’s so used to it that because it’s different it feels bad. Hugo had said that stuff about Victor... no. He shakes his head. He won’t let Hugo turn him against his dad. He won’t abandon his dad, too.

  
  
Hugo takes the long way home, needing time to think. He and Ernest need to have a talk, that much is clear. He isn't going to push just yet, his son needs time to himself to calm down. It's been a long time since he'd seen Ernest cry and knowing how he is it's going to be a while before his son lets down his guard enough to even listen to him.

  
  
He stops at the pizzeria on the way home anyway, getting Ernest's favorite, green pepper and pickled onion as something of a peace offering. He'll leave a plate for him for whenever he gets home. He pulls into the driveway and glances over at Damien's house, spotting his lover outside reading. He offers him a tired smile and wave.

  
  
“Oh, good afternoon,” Damien smiles brightly as soon as he sees Hugo, and bookmarks his book, setting it beside his iced tea. He trots down the front steps and crosses the road to Hugo’s side. He looks absolutely exhausted. “I won’t keep you for long, you look like you’ve had a hellish day. But I must ask, have you perhaps seen my cell phone? I seem to have misplaced it, and I can’t find it anywhere, I thought perchance I left it in your home?”

  
  
"Oh, yes." Hugo fishes the phone out of his pocket and holds it out to Damien. "I found it earlier. Meant to bring it over and forgot. It's been a long day. I'd invite you over for a bit but I'm pretty beat. But we can meet for coffee tomorrow after school? Around four?"

  
  
“That sounds like a delight,” Damien smiles, pocketing his phone. “Are you certain there’s nothing you need to talk about, my love? You look as though you’ve had a brush with death,” he cups both sides of Hugo’s face.

  
  
Hugo shakes his head as best he can without dislodging Damien's hands. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I love you." He leans in to steal a quick kiss.

  
  
And Damien, as he always does, says only and exactly the thing that Hugo needs to hear the very most in that moment.

  
  
“I love you, too.”


End file.
